Aftermath of a Run
by RomanticizedRebel
Summary: Or The One Thing You Didn't Give Up. Tony and Ziva deal with the aftermath of a morning run- Off-Canon. Unashamedly fluffy Tiva.


**This is an old one I wrote on Tumblr under Tivaliveson. Enjoy.**

**I do not own the babes or NCIS.**

Jesus H. Christ," Tony groaned, stepping out of the brisk winter air and into his home in the early morning. He was exhausted. Everything ached, his cotton t-shirt was soaked through with sweat, and he was panting. Hard. He pulled off his tennis shoes and carelessly flung them to opposite sides of his pristine living room before stripping off his t-shirt and shooting it, basketball-style, into the machine. His athletic shorts and white tube socks followed in much the same way.

He would've run to the shower, except for the fact that he didn't think he wanted to run again. _Ever_. However, to his chagrin, the muscles of his back were to tense and his legs too achy for heat of the water to do much more than wash the sweat from his overheated body. He decided that the whole standing thing was overrated and cursed himself for not investing in a bathtub. After a few fruitless moments, he shut the steaming water off, wrapped a towel around his waist, and walked out into his bedroom. He pulled trusted grey sweats on over Calvin Klein boxers and put on a pair of socks, feeling the draft drifting across his cold wooden floors.

With a sigh, he collapsed unceremoniously on top of his king sized bed and feebly kicked the quilt and Israeli cotton sheets away from him. "I'm never doing _that_ again." He groaned

Ziva, flushed but not horribly sweaty, strode through the bedroom door in her lithe, graceful. She had swapped the athletic warm-ups she donned for the run for one of Tony's massive, well-loved Ohio State t-shirts over a pair of grey cotton athletic leggings. Her feet were in black socks, apparently having felt the draft as well. Her olive skin had a healthy glow from the physical exertion, and her wild brown curls were tied back in a ponytail. "Do not be such a baby, Tony," she chuckled, "It was only eight miles."

"_Only_ eight?" He said incredulously as she crossed the floor and sat on the bed next to him.

"I specifically recall you saying you ran a half marathon four days a week when you were at Ohio State," she retorted, chocolate eyes alight with humor.

"Yeah, but that was over twenty years ago and I was playing basketball." Tony grumbled good-naturedly. He lifted up his arm, inviting her in next to him. She complied, snuggling into his side and draping her right leg over his two. Her t-shirt rode up; revealing the toned olive flesh over her adorable flat-yet-convex stomach that frustrated her ceaselessly. He put his hand on her hip, lazily stroking it over the smooth, muscled plain of her back and narrow divots that he knew now were those gorgeous dimples…

He grinned. He would never have seen himself here last February- That time the previous year, he had no idea where Ziva was. She had been on her quest to heal in Israel and god-knows where else. He was hurting, spending countless hours at NCIS, working in order to avoid his apartment and the empty reality that she wasn't there.

Now, he was at home as much as possible in order to spend more time with Ziva- So he could see the lines around her wide brown eyes crinkled into a true smile, one with teeth, so different from the Mona Lisa one she used to don all the time. So he could feel her body wrapped around his in an affectionate manner she would have been totally averse to before "restarting." He was in heaven, and grateful. The woman he loved was there, lying- next to him or on top of him? He wasn't sure how to distinguish which her current position was. Regardless, it was pleasant. The woman he loved was lying _with_ him and he was happy. As long as those two facts stayed true, he was the luckiest guy on the planet.

He twirled his fingers through the curly dark mass of hair that was resting on his shoulder. "Only one habit you're still keeping up from Mossad, and it has to be running?" He chuckled, not really even supporting his own side of the discourse anymore. Somehow, with her presence the aches and pains had become far less relevant. Anyhow, if a run led to this, who was he to complain?

"It is good for you," she chuckled, poking a few times at his recently far-less-pudgy abdomen, "it is showing."

He ego got a nice little boost from that. "Maybe it's not such a bad thing." He craned his neck to place a kiss on top of her brunette curls which had somehow gotten free from their ponytail. "Actually, Sweet Cheeks," he mused, "I think I was wrong. There was one more habit you kept up."

"Oh?" She said, twisting flexibly to gaze directly at him. Her once-haunted brown eyes only contained light in them, or in this case, laughter. "And what is that?"

He kissed her squarely on the lips. "Me."

**A bit cutesy, but I'm not averse to a bit of fluff. Comments, Complaints, Compliments, Concerns, and whatever other "C" letter word that has to do with reviews are welcome.**


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